


bright and blue and shining gold

by halfempty



Category: Victorious
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 01:14:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8350552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfempty/pseuds/halfempty
Summary: Cat draws a long line in her book, deep purple marker. She draws another line connecting it, red and sharp. Heartstrings, maybe. No one's in particular. Cat/Andre, slightly non-linear. Not really connected to any of my other fic, but it can be if you want it.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maybewolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maybewolf/gifts).



> Part one of what I think will be a (very eventual) threeshot, because I am impossible.

 

 

**bright and blue and shining gold**

 

Andre's leaning back against the row of lockers, smiling across the hall at her. She can tell it's a smile for for her, even though they're not too close to each other, crowded away by groups of people trying to get to class.

Cat isn't worried about being late. It's just before first period, and she's feeling happy, because it's Thursday, almost the weekend, and feeling a little bit hyper, too, because she's actually had time to eat breakfast this morning before her brother hustled her out the door. She leaves Robbie to bicker loudly with Jade over his math notes beside his own locker. He should know by now that Jade hides them for fun. She bounces across the hall, ducking under someone's binder as they speed by her.

“Hi hi!”

“Hey,” Andre says back to her. He's still leaning and smiling, smiling down at her. “Did you see those shooting stars last night? I thought about texting you.”

“Yes! Jade and I watched them!”

“Pretty bright. I could see them from my roof.” Andre lives close to the school, in the actual city, surrounded by all the bright lights. Cat thinks it must be so cool and fun to live inside of LA. He knows all about the subway routes; he'd shown her before on a map when they'd been getting lunch somewhere. She doesn't think she could ever get anywhere without Andre.

“Jade's dad said that they come a little farther into the atmosphere each time they come down. Every twelve years! But they won't hit the earth, they would just burn up before they hurt anyone. Do you want to watch them with me next time?”

Andre's raising his eyebrows at her and biting down on his bottom lip, biting down on a smile. She's amusing him. She likes to amuse him; she doesn't mind. “In twelve years, huh?”

“Yeah!”

“That's a long time.”

Cat thinks about it, trying not to frown. Her hand goes up, twisting in her long ponytail. In twelve years they'll be – well, she's sixteen now, so she'll be twenty-eight, almost twenty-nine. Her birthday's in February, and it's not quite November. Maybe she'll have her own house by then, a cat and a dog and a job and a nice car that doesn't backfire so much. Does Andre think they won't be friends in twelve years? He might think she's being too silly. “Well – if – ”

“I'm sure there'll be another meteor shower happening before that. We could start with that one, maybe.”

“Oh.” Her face smooths out, and she beams up at him. “Okay.”

Andre smiles back, but the bell's ringing then, spoiling their moment, the strings between them. She hears Robbie shrieking in dismay from behind her, silly and upset. He must not have found his notes. She feels Jade looming suddenly by her shoulder, commanding and severe, as Jade is. “What are you guys doing? Come _on._ ”

Andre's still smiling, pushing himself up off the lockers. He tugs on the strap of her bookbag, light. “Come on, Red.”

“Okay!”

 

Everyone's at Beck's house one summer day, sitting around outside of the RV on Beck's long, long front lawn. You almost can't see the street from where they are. They're off in their own space, separated from the world. Tori and Andre have pulled off another one of their schemes – everything is a scheme and fun and silly when Tori's around – following around a producer until he's listened to one of their songs. He'd liked it, taken down their names and numbers, shook Andre's hand. If he buys it, Andre says, he's using some of the money to get his grandma's basement finished. He'll have a real recording studio down there, a space away from his grandmother, yelling at him about helicopters.

Andre's playing their song on his guitar, jumping around, goofy; Tori's singing and throwing her hands up in the air, dramatic and silly, reenacting her performance. Her hair, shiny and dark, flows everywhere, gets caught in the blue beads of her long necklace. Tori's always wearing bright colors. She makes Cat think of a girl on a postcard, a blip off of a romantic movie scene. Bright and light and shining. Cat's laughing and watching them, sitting next to Robbie in the hot grass.

Jade throws herself down next to Cat, hands her a soda. Grape. Not as good as pineapple, but Beck almost never even has soda in the RV, so Cat won't complain. She knows Jade's only gotten her a soda because she feels bad for making Cat trip earlier, tumbling over the cracked sidewalk and ripping a long line down the leg of her jeans, little pebbles of blood blooming up on her knee. Andre had pulled her up with an easy hand, letting his guitar fall onto the grass with a muted _thump!_ , defusing the situation before Beck could scold Jade or put her in time-out. He was smiling and shaking his head at her clumsiness. “Careful, Jade. Red's too small to hold herself up.”

Cat can feel Andre's hand against hers, still. His palm was wide and calloused, strangely soft, surprisingly hot. His body temperature must run higher than hers. _Cold hands, warm heart,_ Cat loved to say, making Jade groan and hit her. His palm was star-white against the dark of his arm, lighter even than Cat's fingers as he'd squeezed them, tugging her up.

Cat feels, too, Jade's presence beside her, light and familiar, eternally annoyed. She sighs heavily at the antics of Tori and Andre. “God, will they ever stop. I'm getting nauseous.”

“I like it. How come you and I never follow people around the city and sing at them until they give us money?”

Jade leans heavily against Cat's side, trying to knock her over again. Cat laughs, pushing back. Jade slurps her own soda, burps loudly since Beck's still in the RV and she doesn't have to act like she's perfect (she doesn't have to act that way, anyway – she just does. Jade is funny, sometimes, especially about boys). “Because we're not Tori and Andre.”

“Oh. Yeah.” _Tori and Andre._ “But we are Cat and Jade.”

“Cat and Jade drink soda and watch their idiot friends.”

“Yeah.”

Robbie leans over Cat slightly to annoy Jade. He and Cat are both good at that. Robbie doesn't usually try, but he's been in a silly mood today, playing video games with Beck all morning. “And – what does Robbie do?”

Jade doesn't even bother to glower at him. “Robbie shuts the fuck up.”

Robbie leans back, cowed, and Cat laughs at him, pats his hand. _Tori and Andre, Robbie and Beck, Jade and Cat_. It'd be nice, Cat thinks, watching Andre shake his braids, if there was _Cat and Andre_ , too.

 

Cat's quiet at lunch, finishing her English reading so she won't have to do it at home, reading through her horoscopes. She gets a new little magazine every week – sometimes her brother buys it for her, if he's feeling nice. Jade is quiet, too. Jade is never quiet, not really. She's always too loud and _too much –_ in a different way than Cat is, of course – arguing with Beck or Tori, laughing at Robbie's hair, dragging Cat off to the side to tell her a funny story about her own brother. Jade's personality seems to have shrank a little – Cat's not sure when it's happened over the last few weeks, and she hates to see Jade being so quiet. She knows that Beck and Jade ( _BeckandJade_ ) have been fighting a lot, since before school started this year, and she knows Jade's unhappy with that, though she'd never say. Maybe that's why she's shrinking.

“Want me to read your horoscope, Jade?” she asks, keeping her voice extra light.

Jade's scowl is painted permanently on her face today, and she doesn't move her eyes at all from the tabletop, where she's been reading the same line in their English book for the past ten minutes. She doesn't look like she'll indulge Cat today. “No.”

“Oh.” Cat slumps slightly. She'd been thinking of how to cheer Jade up all morning. Jade's a Gemini, and her ruling planet is Mercury. Cat's been chock full of great things about Mercury to say.

Andre leans across the table, tapping at her wrist. He must have seen the slump. He's so nice. “You can tell me mine, Little Red.”

Cat leans forward, too, leans into his touch so that he can play with her bracelet, the fake-gold one that wraps around her arm twice. She beams at him. “Really? What's your birthday?”

“July 10th.”

“Oh!” Cat cries, happy. “You're a Cancer! That's a – you're a water-based element like I am! Your ruling planet is the moon!”

Andre smiles his slow wide smile at her. His teeth are so white. They look nice against his dark face. She loves it when anyone smiles, but it's particularly nice when Andre does it, and when it's directed towards her. “You know all that already without looking in your book?”

“Yeah! I love astrology!” Cat thinks. “And astronomy, too, but that's harder for me. Sometimes Jade's dad gives me his old astronomy charts. He says Pluto is a planet again! He says that if I really want to know everything about the – “

Jade sighs very heavily beside her. She's still glaring at the line in _Hamlet._ “It would be _so cool_ if we could not talk about my horrible dorky father for one whole lunch period.”

Jade's dad is so cool, and not horrible like Jade says. He _is_ dorky, though, but that's all right. Cat pouts slightly, twists her book up in her hands. She smooths down the thin pages, uses her other hand to trail down the lines. “Are you … having a conflict with anyone? Eleanor Roosevelt says, _Courage is more exhilarating than fear, and in the long run, it is easier.”_

Andre's smile is still curling around his face. She feels it curling around hers, too. “Eleanor Roosevelt, huh? She a Cancer too?”

“I don't know. Maybe! Has an – an ambitious person challenged your progress this week?”

“Sikowitz challenges my progress every week,” Andre says, very serious, making her laugh. “But it ain't really a conflict. What else you got?”

“Hmm.” Cat reads her astrology book slowly. She can feel Andre watching her, smiling. It makes her feel strange, butterflies in the cage of her throat. She'd like to draw that later. “Believe in yourself. Wait for the right time and move towards your goals. Be sweet and polite.” She looks up. “What are your goals?”

Andre's laughing at her. His eyebrows – strangely delicate for his face – are raised up high. “It's a secret,” he tells her, making her pout. Maybe he's writing a new song. Probably with Tori – he's always writing and writing songs with Tori. _Tori and Andre._ Does he write songs _about_ Tori? He must. He breaks her out of her thought, suddenly, leaning over to ask her, “Would you like a soda, Ms. Valentine?”

She hadn't even realized he'd stood up. “Oh,” she says. “Sure!”

Andre brings her a cream soda once he comes back with his fries – he's laughing at her again; the white slip of his teeth against his lips reminds her of a crescent moon. “Is this sweet enough?”

Cat nods happily. “And polite.”

 

Cat likes Andre so much. She thinks she always has, since the moment she saw him walking out of the auditorium with Beck, midway through their freshman year, laughing with his head ducked down and his thick arms tugging at his backpack straps. She doesn't know _how_ she likes him. She just does. You can like a million people a million different ways, sometimes a lot, sometimes a little, sometimes a lot lot.

“He looks nice,” she'd said to Jade. She hoped that Beck was bringing him over to them. “Do you think he's nice?”

Jade narrowed her eyes. “We'll see.”

 

She's in her room, laying in her bed with her head held in one hand, drawing and writing in her journal, even though it's Saturday and her brother threw a shirt at her and then a pair of socks at her and then bounced a Nerf ball off her head and told her she was wasting the day when she didn't want to come out with him.

Sometimes she does like to stay inside. It's a bit cold out for October, and she doesn't have boundless energy, not like Tori's said about her at school yesterday, laughing at her outside of her Costume Design class. She hadn't meant it in a mean way, but she was wrong, anyway, Cat thought. Sometimes she could eat three candy bars and still be tired, and then her stomach only hurts. They've had a lot of homework this week, and she hates having to get up for school before the sun is out. Sikowitz had yelled at her twice just since Wednesday, Jade and Beck had argued all throughout lunch on Friday, and she wants to stay in her room.

Her room is comfy and quiet, the blinds pulled down to block out the sunlight. Her walls look darker with the blinds drawn down, not as fun, but that's all right. Cat has two pink walls and one white wall and one purple wall. The purple wall is for Jade, because she likes purple, and because Cat's brother had helped them paint it. Cat's mom hadn't yelled that much.

Her room is comfy and quiet and she kind of feels like she might fall asleep again, even though it's past eleven, nearing noon, and she's even had coffee this morning. Dad had made it and let it sit too long so it tasted burnt, even with two extra spoons of sugar. She's listening to Bon Iver, who she hasn't heard before but Jade's put them on a CD for her this month, so maybe they'll be her new band for a while. The piano in the song is tapping away, making her happy. She wishes she could play piano well like Andre, so she could tap away too, play out the melodies in her head.

Jade makes her a music CD every month, because Cat's said she likes them, and Jade is obsessive-compulsive and has to do everything the same way every time, the way she wants it. A playlist would be easier, something to load onto her mp3 player and bring up quick, wherever she is, but Cat's got her brother's old stereo set up in her room – it is bright blue and has the biggest speakers and she loves to look at it – and also Jade's car is old, so she makes them CDs. Jade always gives Cat a new CD during the first week of every month. Jade is like clockwork. Cat's had friends before, yeah, she supposes, but never one like Jade, not a best friend – loyal and strong and blunt and ready to tear anyone apart at any time if they ever said anything about Cat. Cat knows she can tell Jade anything, and Jade will listen, even though Cat doesn't – doesn't tell Jade everything. Jade underestimates her sometimes, she thinks. She doesn't know she does, though – Jade is like clockwork. But she knows just what kind of music Cat likes. _Summer comes to multiply, to multiply._ It's not summer now, but that's okay.

Cat draws a long line in her book, deep purple marker. She draws another line connecting it, red and sharp. Heartstrings, maybe. No one's in particular. She can make up a story for it later. She loves to make up stories for everything, every silly drawing, little romances, though she's never had one.

Her phone buzzes away beside her, making her pillow vibrate. It makes her smile. She answers it without looking – there's only a few people it could be. Her brother, calling to yell and tell her she's no fun again. Jade, calling to yell and ask her about the English homework again. “ _Summer comes to multiply, to multiply._ ”

“It's a long way from summer, kid.” Oh! It's Andre. Cat sits up too fast, smearing marker on her arm.

“Hi! I was singing.”

Andre sounds like he's laughing. He usually is. “You usually are. What are you doing, Red?”

“Aside from singing?” Cat thinks about it. “Nothing. Did you do the science homework?”

“No way!” Andre says. “It ain't Monday morning.” He pauses for a few seconds, strange. He says, “Had fun with you and Robbie last weekend.”

“Me too!” They'd gone and looked at records. Robbie was so funny. Andre laughed at him nearly as much as he laughed at her. Cat didn't think laughter was always in a mean way, not like Jade thought.

“What are you really doing? Nothing? Do you … wanna hang out?”

Cat's smile threatens to crack her face. She draws another line in her book, pale and yellow. It bleeds orange when it hits the red. No one ever really asks her to hang out, aside from Jade, aside from Robbie last week. She hadn't known Andre was going to be with him. “Yeah, I always want to hang out! Do you want to go to the planetarium?”

Andre laughs. “The science museum? Is that where you want to go?”

“Yeah!” She pauses. “I mean – unless you don't want to. Jade usually doesn't. They have hippo-shaped mugs at the gift shop. You can get hot chocolate for free if you buy one!”

“Why do they got hippo-shaped mugs at the planetarium?”

“Oh, I – “ She's never thought about it. “I don't know.”

“I never had hot chocolate out of a hippo before. I can take the bus down and meet you there.”

Cat's beaming away. “Kay kay! I'll see you in an hour?”

“Yeah, all right.”

Cat launches out of her bed, the piano still tapping away. A new song is playing now, fast and upbeat, changing her heartbeat. She feels like she's just ate three candy bars again, but without the stomachache.

 

 

Jade and Beck have broken up, nearly a month ago now, and it's so strange, and makes her feel off-balance. She's not used to Jade without Beck anymore, though it's not a bad thing, not really. Maybe for Jade it is.

Jade and Robbie have a class together and a project, some long play that they have to write together. They're always arguing about the play at lunch, during Sikowitz's class. It's lunch now, and Jade's fighting away with Robbie, her voice getting louder as she tries to act more irritated than she is. She's always getting louder and louder with Cat, trying to act more irritated than she is. Jade is so funny.

Cat sighs, bored. Jade is very serious about the play. She's told Cat to be quiet three times already just this period, and Robbie's been laughing at her for getting the lyrics to a song wrong. She scans the courtyard, idling, chewing at the ends of her sandwich. She spies Andre at the end of the Asphalt Cafe, a bright beacon. He's always wearing bright colors, too; he's easy to spot. Cat stands up, leaning over, grabbing up her apple and her cake and her astrology booklet. “I'm going to sit with Andre!” she announces to Jade and to Robbie.

“Whatever,” Jade snaps, still trying to act mad. She shoves her lunch tray over at Cat. “Get rid of my trash, okay?”

Cat gets rid of Jade's tray and bounces across the courtyard, eyes on Andre's bright blue polo, his long-sleeved yellow t-shirt underneath it. Andre always dressed like he was in a 90s music video, Jade said. Cat loved it. Bright and blue and shining gold. She bounds up to Andre from behind, taps him on the shoulder. “Hi hi!”

Andre turns his head up slowly to look at her, and the rest of the guys at the table stare, too, not saying anything to her. Cat feels a bit shy very suddenly, a bit overwhelmed. She doesn't know anyone else here. She usually sticks close to Jade at lunch, even still. She's always worried about being _too much_. Jade says she's _too much_ , sometimes, and Beck does too, and her parents do.

She wonders if she's being _too much_ now, jumping over, interrupting Andre's conversation. If Jade were here, she'd drawl out something sarcastic, leaning her weight to one side, careless. But she's not Jade, though she wants to be sometimes. She's only silly old Cat, and she cares too much.

Andre just smiles at her, upside down, a bright moon and bright beacon. “Hey, Cat!” he says back, just as loud. He rolls his head back, shifts over on the bench, making room for her. “Do y'all know Cat? She's in Improv with me. Are you sitting down?”

“Y-yes,” Cat says, happy, and settles down beside him, smoothing her pink shirt over her knees. She smiles at everyone, still feeling _too much_. “Hi.”

Andre's pointing everyone out. “Scott,” he says, gesturing, “Ryland, Joaquin, Martin.” Oh! She does know Martin. He's in her Costume Design class, but he sits in the back, never saying much. He likes to design superhero costumes.

“Hi,” she says again. Martin smiles at her, turns his gaze back down to his lunch.

“These guys are all in my guitar classes,” Andre says. He says, “Cat is a gifted astronomer.”

“Astrologist,” she corrects him.

“It's all planets,” Andre tells her. He's leaning heavily against the table, relaxed, legs spread wide – one knee's knocking into hers, light. “You thinking big thoughts about Jupiter?”

“Always am.” She's always thinking big thought about everything, zipping so fast and she wishes she can remember them all.

Andre smiles like she's said something great. He leans closer to her, looking like he's letting her in on a game. He says, “That cake for me?”

It's chocolate, still wrapped from the lunch stand. Cat loves chocolate, and she could eat two of these, but she considers him, very seriously. “You can have half.”

Andre looks heartened. “More than I got now.”

 

 

They like to lay out on his flat roof, her and Andre – you can climb right out his window and pull yourself up on it – pretending there are meteor showers for them to watch, drinking their hot chocolate (it's not just a _Tori and Andre_ thing, she thinks, and they've got mugs and mugs of hippos now, blue and green and pink from the science museum), and talking about school or whatever else they've done this week, and Andre will ask Cat for his horoscope. They've been doing this for a few weeks now, as winter draws on, and Andre will wrap his arm around her if she says she feels cold.

“I don't have my book!” Cat had exclaimed the first time, laughing.

“You know enough without that book,” Andre said. He'd pointed at the light sky, turning dark, the thin sliver of the moon. His smile. “Look, the moon's out. That's my element, ain't it? Use it as your inspiration.”

“Okay.” Cat bit her lip hard, trying not to stutter, like she'd used to as a child.

She'd felt strange – she didn't often think like this, but she'd never been at a boy's house before by herself. She'd exhaled hard, tried to clear her mind. Thought about Jade's latest mix CD, thought about her favorite song. It was nice of Jade to keep on making her CDs, even though she was so busy with her project with Robbie. _Every time you stargaze, the whole world is lying at your feet._ The stars aren't out yet, no, but that's all right. “You – you – Cancer needs to watch the sky. The moon is out.”

Andre had grinned wide, moon-smiled over at her, lolling his head towards her on the hard roof. “Keep going, Red. You can do better.”

Cat cleared her throat. She closed her eyes, thinking about her songs. Why did Andre ask her here so often? She was nothing, nothing special. Couldn't even remember today's horoscopes. She thinks hard, trying to remember. “The day will be good for self-evaluation. Your lucky color is gold.” Andre tapped on her bracelet, light. She could feel him smiling at her – she always could. He was almost too nice for his own good, too kind, too patient. “The day may be good for your professional relationships, if you ... exchange some new thoughts.” She opened her eyes, slow. The sky was bright, hurting her eyes, the setting sun bordering on blinding. “Do you – have any professional relationships?” Him and Tori, getting their song signed. It had happened last week. Andre'd picked her up in the hall – _her,_ Cat, and not Tori! – and swung her about.

Andre had sat up slightly, propping himself up on an elbow, looking her over, looking down at her. Cat swallowed hard, laying flat on the slightly slanted roof. She'd looked up at him. Her eyes felt too large for her face, taking in everything, the span of the whole horizon. “You _are_ my partner in Improv,” he'd said, squinting.

“I know.” Her voice felt scratchy, silly. He was so much fun to be partnered with, even more than Jade.

“We got that play at the end of the month. Pretty professional. Are you still designing the costumes?”

“Yeah – yep. Yes.”

Andre didn't say anything for a few long seconds, leaning and looking at her, eyes narrowed against the sun. She looked back up at him, watching him. His braids were getting long again, and needed to be done. He didn't feel like doing it, he'd said – he had a friend he went to. It was an all-day affair. No one had understood. _I could text you during it,_ she'd offered. _I'm free all day every day_.

He was looking and looking at her. “I really like you, Cat,” he'd said, slow, thinking about it.

Cat had watched him, thinking about her songs. _It's funny how we met on the telephone, you and I on the edge of the unknown._ “I like you too,” she'd said, so dizzy. “You're super fun.”

Andre smiled, and Cat felt caught, strung up where he wanted her. He didn't think she was too stupid or too much, she knew. She would have felt it by now. He was still leaning over her, getting closer and closer. Her heart felt in her throat, looking at him. She wanted to scream, _time out!_ She wanted to scream for Jade, say that she didn't know what to do. She wanted to never talk again, oh, if he'd keep leaning.

“ _Andre!_ ” his grandmother hollered suddenly from deep inside the house. Cat could swear her voice rumbled through the roof. “I need help! Have you seen a tall man wearing a raspberry beret? He's got my tax return!”

Andre's eyes went very wide rather suddenly and then he was gone, falling back over onto his back beside her, staring up at the bright light. His shoulders shook humorlessly. “Are you _kidding me?_ ” he'd asked the sky – maybe the moon. “No, you ain't kidding me. Why would you be kidding me. Why would anything in my life but this be a joke.”

“ _Andre!_ ” screamed Mrs. Harris.

Andre closed his eyes. Cat sat up a little, then, watching him, watched his chest go up and down as her heartbeat slowed, his skin glittering in the bright fading sun. “Sorry, Cat,” he'd said, eyes still closed. He sat up, slow and dejected. He was so cute, she almost couldn't stand it. “Really sorry. Damn. _Damn!_ Do you – you got any of those pinwheels in your backpack? Something to distract her? Hey, I – uh, I can take you for Chinese after. If you want.”

Cat had licked her lips, dry. She felt a loss; she wondered if he'd been about to do what she'd wanted him to. “Yeah, I've got like three pinwheels! I made them during lunch.”

“Cool. She likes those, the colors. I dunno why.”

“I read that. It's a sensory thing. I pick calming colors for – for myself.”

“Oh,” Andre said. He hadn't asked her why she needed calming colors – she just did, sometimes. He'd said, “Cool.” He said again, “Sorry, Red – Cat.”

“It's okay!” Cat had watched him sit up, slide down toward the roof's edge, slip back into his window. He'd held her hand as she climbed through, too, held her, holding her up. He was really strong – _poverty strength_ , he'd told her once, grinning like a goon. He always said things that shocked her, made her laugh withont meaning to. Cat had clutched his fingers tight, hadn't let go as he'd led her through his room, down the stairs. She'd snatched up her backpack on the way. “M—Mrs. Harris? Do you remember me?”

Andre's grandmother stood in their cluttered living room, white hair shining somehow, hands on her hips. She looked formidable and tall, strangely built like Andre – it always made Cat laugh, thinking about how alike they looked, and Andre would holler and tickle her. “Catherine!” she'd said, raising her head up. It was almost right. Her glasses were large and dangled from her neck with a gold chain. “I just don't know – can you make sense of this?”

Cat had moved closer, clutching her bookbag. “I – I don't know. I can't really make much sense of anything, ever. My daddy says it runs in the family. The Irish side, of course.”

Andre's grandmother smiled – the same slow smile, pleased to see her. She wasn't so crazy, not really. She just needed a little time to really see you. “Maybe we can help each other.”

“I hope so.” She'd taken Mrs. Harris's hand in both of hers. Her hand felt thin and cool between her palms, the skin paper-thin and smooth. Her palms were white-white like Andre's, a paper moon – delicate. The thought of that -- so fragile, a sudden image in her head -- had made her smile. Another painting she'd forgot to paint.

Mrs. Harris smiled back at her, kind and a little confused, not so unlike herself. Cat felt Andre smiling at her, too, sunshine in the full dark, rising up in her chest. The moon, the water-sign, her and Andre, was out now, illuminating the sky outside.

 

 


End file.
